Ferrari builds cars that turn fuel, electrons and ego into noise, speed and Instagram likes—often in that order.
The steering is scalpel-sharp, throttle response theatrical, and even the “comfortable” models feel wired into your nervous system.
Cabins are lush and techy, though the touch-capacitive controls can be fiddlier than a violin solo at 250 km/h, and practicality is, well, optional.
Running costs and insurance will make your accountant cry into their spreadsheet, but residual values and the sheer occasion soften the blow.
If you want a daily, consider something gentler; if you want a life event every drive, few badges deliver like the prancing horse.
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